


Kindred Sparks

by Dragonmaster



Series: Then and Now [2]
Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Drama, M/M, Rescue, Threesome - M/M/M, Twincest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-03
Updated: 2013-02-03
Packaged: 2017-11-28 03:18:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/669678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragonmaster/pseuds/Dragonmaster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Knockout has Breakdown back... but that just reminds Dreadwing of his own loss.  Motivated by a past encounter with Dreadwing, Knockout decides there's only one way to help him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kindred Sparks

**Author's Note:**

> Thought "Then and Now" was only going to be a one-shot, but apparently Dreadwing had his own story in the universe to tell, so I let him come out and tell it. Warnings for sticky, sparkbonding, threeway, oral, and offscreen twincest.

The Decepticons had come to the MECH base expecting a massacre, or at the very least minimal resistance before wiping out the upstart humans for good. They had anticipated nothing unusual about this mission, and no significant difficulties. A few had even been expecting to see Knockout get chewed out or worse by Megatron for abandoning his post aboard the Nemesis and taking off on his little vengeance-seeking mission. 

None of them had expected Megatron to come back aboard the Nemesis with a formerly-deceased Decepticon in tow. Not that seeing Breakdown stride down the corridors wasn't a welcome sight, even if his colors were wrong and he was carrying an obviously injured Knockout in his arms. After so many setbacks on this world, it was high time they had some good news, and the resurrection of a murdered comrade was plenty good for most mechs.

The moment the Vehicons spotted Breakdown they broke out into applause, some even rushing up to welcome him back in person. Breakdown took the welcome in stride, taking time to talk to every mech who approached him, though he kept up his steady stride toward the repair bay as he talked. Even Soundwave seemed pleased to see him – at least, as pleased as Soundwave ever appeared to be. At any rate, he had seemed to relax a touch when he spotted the SUV-former, and readily helped him transfer Knockout to a berth for repairs.

Only one mech seemed anything but happy to see Breakdown again… 

***

Dreadwing wouldn’t have believed it had he not seen it with his own optics. He was not a mech given to believing in miracles, and though he agreed that the loss of Breakdown had been a terrible thing, he had soon accepted the mech’s fate and moved on. To hear that Breakdown was not only alive, but had reforged his bond with Knockout, was as much a shock as the blow of a weapon. 

Once said shock had worn off, however, he felt no happiness. If anything, he felt angry, angry and cheated.

He stalked toward his quarters, not making optic contact with any other Decepticon who passed by. A few paused and stared at him as he went by, doubtless wondering what his problem was. None stopped to question him, however, and Dreadwing doubted he would have answered them even if they had. He was in no mood to explain himself to anyone.

Dreadwing eyed the corridor ahead with a scowl. He would have to pass by the medbay to get to his quarters, a prospect he loathed at the moment. More than anything, he did not want to see Knockout’s face right now. Doubtless the medic would be absolutely smug about this latest turn of events, at having his partner back and all being right with his merry little world.

He didn’t hate the medic. Far from it – he of all mechs knew what Knockout had gone through in losing his bondmate to Airachnid and MECH. Which, perhaps, was part of the current problem…

_Megatron seemed to sense something was terribly wrong the moment Dreadwing stepped through the groundbridge. Dreadwing, for his part, started slightly in surprise at seeing the Decepticon commander manning the bridge controls. Wasn’t that normally Knockout’s job?_

_“Airachnid escaped, didn’t she?” Megatron snarled, displeasure dripping from every word._

_“Regretfully, my Lord,” Dreadwing replied, lowering his head out of respect. “She has gone rogue. Permission to hunt her down and destroy her.”_

_“Denied,” Megatron replied. “Our resources are required for other tasks. There will come an opportunity to squash the insect, but the time is not now.” His gaze moved to the groundbridge, then back to Dreadwing. “Where is Breakdown?”_

_Dreadwing paused a moment, pushing aside his apprehension long enough to answer. “Breakdown was attacked by Airachnid. He… isn’t coming back.”_

_Megatron frowned, optics flashing in sudden comprehension. “That explains much.”_

_“Sir?” Dreadwing inquired, puzzled._

_“Report to the repair bay,” Megatron ordered, ignoring his questioning look. “If Knockout is in any condition to work, he will see that your damages are repaired.”_

_“Condition?” Apprehension gripped Dreadwing’s spark. “I was not aware Knockout had been damaged.”_

_The Decepticon commander was not known for being a comforting or sympathetic type, but at the moment his usual scowl had faded, and he looked almost… regretful. “You don’t know then… but I doubt Knockout will object if I tell you. Sometime in the recent past, Knockout and Breakdown became bondmates.”_

_Emotion welled in his spark at that – a sudden blaze of understanding mingled with horror. “Then… he felt Breakdown shut down?”_

_“The entire Nemesis heard it the moment it happened,” Megatron replied. “He was very… vocal… regarding his loss.”_

_Dreadwing shuddered slightly in reaction. He, of all mechs, knew the pain of losing a spark-linked mech. The memory of the ripping pain he had felt the moment Skyquake’s spark had been snuffed still haunted him, and there were nights he was awakened from recharge by nightmares of that horrible day…_

_He shook his head and saluted Megatron, then turned to go. No time for wallowing in the past. He would obey his commander’s orders… and if Knockout wasn’t fit to repair him, his damages were minimal enough that they could wait. He would simply retire to his quarters until the medic had recovered._

_His plans changed the moment he walked into the repair bay. The chamber was in shambles. Tools and equipment lay scattered from one end of the bay to the other, and fluids of various colors painted the walls and floor in wild, erratic patterns. Nothing appeared broken as far as the Seeker could see, but the chaos in what had once been a bastion of order aboard the Nemesis was still deeply shocking._

_He almost missed Knockout at first… but a faint keen drew his attention to a dark red lump on the floor. The medic lay curled in the center of the room in what an organic would have termed a fetal position, arms covering his head, tremors passing through his frame as if he were suffering an internal malfunction of some sort. Like the room around him, he was spattered with various fluids, and scratches marred his paint. Even as Dreadwing watched he shuddered again and keened softly, like a crying sparkling._

_Dreadwing pieced together what had happened almost immediately. Knockout had reacted badly to the breaking of the bond, and thrown what could only be described as a tantrum, trashing the repair bay in the process. While under normal circumstances he would have described such a total loss of control as disgraceful, he couldn’t fault Knockout for succumbing to the urge to destroy in the wake of his bondmate’s death. It wasn’t so different from what Dreadwing had done upon feeling Skyquake pass, razing an entire city sector of the planet he was currently hiding on in the throes of his pain…_

_He crossed the room in a few long strides and knelt by Knockout’s side, resting a hand on his shoulder._

_“Get up,” he urged. “You need to get up.”_

_Knockout groaned and curled up even more tightly in response._

_“Knockout,” Dreadwing pressed, “you need to get up. I know it hurts… but this won’t help you recover.”_

_“Leave me,” the medic choked, trying to pull away from the Seeker without uncurling. “Let me wallow in my grief, why won’t you…”_

_“This is not the time to get overdramatic,” Dreadwing scolded, and reached down to gather Knockout in his arms. Primus, he was light… almost lighter than the Vehicons. Small wonder he had been partnered with Breakdown in the first place – Megatron would have wanted their medic well-protected on the battlefield._

_For a moment Dreadwing simply stood there, arms full of Knockout, wondering where to go from here. There was no protocol among the Decepticons for helping one with a broken bond cope with the pain, probably because so few mechs under Megatron’s command actually took bondmates. At a loss, he simply headed for Knockout’s quarters at the back of the repair bay, trying to decide what to do._

_The room’s small, private wash rack stood open, and that gave Dreadwing the inspiration for what to do next. If there was one way he knew to make Knockout feel better, it was to improve his looks. And given the mess he’d made of himself at the moment, the sooner he could get him cleaned up and back to normal physically, the better._

_“Stand up,” Dreadwing ordered, suiting actions to words by setting Knockout on his feet._

_Knockout wobbled and slumped uncooperatively against the larger mech, only Dreadwing’s arm keeping him from collapsing totally. Dreadwing sighed in frustration and hauled the medic upright again, then reached over to activate the wash rack. Primus below, he was trying to help him… why did he have to be such a bother now of all times?_

_Knockout’s optics flickered as a spray of cleanser washed over him, and he gazed up at Dreadwing with a puzzled expression, as if he had just awakened from a deep recharge. “Dreadwing?”_

_“Keep standing,” he ordered. “I need both hands for this.”_

_Knockout stared at him, as if needing a moment to compute the instruction, then nodded and stopped leaning against the Seeker. Satisfied that the medic would cooperate for now, he adjusted the flow of cleanser until the temperature and fluid pressure were comfortable, then found a cloth and set to work cleaning him up._

_The job took longer than expected – some of the medical fluids he’d managed to gum himself up with were sticky and stubborn, requiring extra scrubbing. Dreadwing tried to be gentle, though, especially around his crests and headfins. He paid special attention to his joints, as well as vents and wheel-wells and other nooks and crannies in his chassis where grime could all too easily accumulate. Knockout made no move to resist or even react to the attention, even when the cleaning cloth passed over sensitive areas of his body._

_Finally, satisfied that the medic was as clean as he could get him, he shut off the wash rack and helped him out. “Where’s your dryer? I didn’t see it coming in.”_

_“Don’t have one,” Knockout mumbled. “I use a towel. Don’t like water spots on my finish.”_

_Dreadwing grabbed one of the cloths in the corner and wiped the remaining cleanser from his plating, frowning slightly. The cleaning had taken care of the surface gunk, but there were still scratches and nicks in his finish. It looked like his job wasn’t done quite yet._

_“Stay here,” he ordered, and headed back out into the room proper. Just as he thought, Knockout’s polishing equipment was right beside his berth. Trust the mech to not even want to recharge for the night without a good buff and polish._

_Some of Knockout’s usual demeanor had returned, it seemed – his optics lit up slightly when he saw Dreadwing coming back with the buffer and polish. He turned slightly, offering his back to the Seeker, and Dreadwing took that as consent and set to work buffing out the scratches._

_He wasn’t terribly good at this – he wasn’t fastidious enough about his appearance to worry about polishing his plating, and Skyquake had cared even less about his looks and outright laughed at the prospect of a polish. But Knockout didn’t seem to care about skill, at least tonight. Slowly he relaxed under Dreadwing’s hands, leaning slightly into the buffing, his venting evening out. And when Dreadwing set the buffer aside and worked on his crests by hand, using a cloth, he nudged against his hand like a cat, optics shuttered in something like content._

_Finally Dreadwing finished, and he took Knockout by the shoulders and guided him back into this room. The cleaning and polish seemed to have done some good – he was walking, at least, and showing some signs of being his normal self. The look in his optics was still haunted and full of pain, though, and instead of his usual jaunty step, he shuffled along, shoulders hunched and head lowered._

_Dreadwing sighed again and eased him over to the berth, helping him sit. He knew from experience that only time could heal this sort of wound, though it would never close completely. And he had a feeling that the vain, theatrical mech everyone aboard the Nemesis was so familiar with was gone for good. He might regain some of his old spunk, but he would never entirely be the same. No mech ever was after losing the other half of the bond._

_“Rest,” he ordered. “I’ll work on cleaning up the repair bay.” And with that, he turned to go… but a slim hand grabbing onto his arm stopped him._

_“Dreadwing… stay? Don’t want to be alone.”_

_The Seeker opened his mouth to say no, but Knockout fixed him with such a woeful, pleading expression that he had to relent. “For a little while.”_

_Knockout managed a wan smile, then slowly lay down, curling up on himself again. Dreadwing hesitated, then lay down beside the medic, letting the red mech scoot closer and settle in against him. He didn’t have to report for duty for awhile, so he supposed there was no harm in staying for a time._

_A tapered finger tapped on his chest, and he gazed down to find Knockout looking up at him, a look of sad confusion on his faceplate._

_“Dreadwing… why?” A short phrase, but one that said everything._

_“Because I know how it feels,” he replied honestly, his voice surprisingly gentle even to his own audials. “Because I wish someone had been there for me when I lost my twin. I went through my pain alone… but that doesn’t mean you have to.”_

_The cleanser ducts in Knockout’s optics brimmed with fluid, and he pressed his face against Dreadwing’s chest to muffle a sob. “Th-thank you.”_

_Dreadwing didn’t reply. He simply draped an arm around the medic and let him cry it out, not moving even when the smaller mech had exhausted himself and slipped into recharge. It couldn’t hurt to stay the night, he decided. No sense leaving and having Knockout wake up alone…_

He scowled and shook his head, trying to cut off the rest of the memory. He’d stayed with Knockout far longer than just that night – he’d practically taken care of him for over a week, fetching his energon, cleaning up the repair bay, encouraging him to bathe, recharge, and refuel when he refused. With the Seeker’s help, the medic had finally recovered enough from his depression to resume his duties – much to Soundwave’s relief, as the communications officer had been forced to take over Knockout’s duties during his absence.

Dreadwing hadn’t regretted playing nursemaid to Knockout at the time. He, of all mechs, had known what he was going through, and knew that he needed care and companionship in order to recover. And while he had helped the medic with no thought of reward, he admitted that it had been somewhat nice for there to be one mech on the Nemesis who knew what Dreadwing had gone through in losing his twin.

Now, though… now Knockout had Breakdown back. His life was back to normal as far as he was concerned, and he could merely put this episode behind him as a traumatic but temporary crisis. Dreadwing should have been happy for him, but instead he only felt confused and angry.

It isn’t fair, he couldn’t help but think as he approached the door to the medbay. How is it that Knockout’s bondmate is restored, but Skyquake, my own brother, remains dead? What makes him more deserving of a miracle than me? 

He almost walked by the medbay without a glance. At the moment, Knockout was the last mech he wanted to see. Doubtless he’d be back to normal now that his bond with Breakdown had been restored, and he would be insufferably smug about this whole thing. And if the medic chose to rub this whole thing in his face, he couldn’t be responsible for his reaction.

Curiosity overcame anger, though, and he snuck a look inside. Breakdown was seated on a berth, back in his original colors and a fully repaired Knockout in his lap. Knockout had his arms around Breakdown as far as they would go, his face tucked against his neck, a look of relief and content on his faceplate. Breakdown simply held the smaller mech gently, one large hand on the small of his back, the other lightly rubbing his helm crests.

Despite himself, Dreadwing felt his spark warm slightly at the scene. He had fully expected the two of them to spend the days of leave Megatron had granted them in Knockout’s quarters, fragging each other senseless. He hadn’t expected such a quiet, tender moment between the two.

Breakdown glanced up at the doorway and spotted Dreadwing, and offered a slight smile before looking back down at Knockout. “We’ve got company.”

“Hmm.” Knockout nuzzled against his neck cables. “If it’s Megatron, tell him we still have three days before we have to report to duty.”

“It’s Dreadwing.”

“Oh… well in that case, he’s welcome to come in.”

Dreadwing frowned. “I have no desire to intrude…”

“Please,” Knockout insisted, turning to look Dreadwing in the optics. “I haven’t properly thanked you for your help when Breakdown first shut down. And I don’t like to leave unfilled debts. Come in.”

Hesitantly, Dreadwing stepped closer. This wasn’t what he expected. Knockout seemed happier, but the cocky and self-absorbed attitude he’d been known for before were absent at the moment. He didn’t let his guard down, though… this could all be a cruel trick…

Knockout tapped Breakdown’s chest, and the bulky warrior released his grip, letting him slide down to the floor. He looked Dreadwing up and down, a speculative look on his faceplate, then gave a devious sort of smile.

“Why don’t we retire to my quarters for this? I owe you a proper thank-you, and that tends to be the sort of thing that people don’t want to see in their repair bay.”

Breakdown snorted. “That’s never stopped you before, Knock.”

“True, but I’m sure Dreadwing likes his privacy…”

It didn’t take long for Dreadwing to realize what he was getting at, and his optics flickered in shock. “You’re inviting me to interface with you?”

Knockout chuckled. “Quick on the uptake, aren’t we?”

Dreadwing didn’t know whether to be appalled or amused by the offer. Of course… leave it to Knockout to think a chance at interfacing with him was the ultimate reward. Not that he wasn’t tempted – the medic was stunning, and the thought of having him to himself for a night made every sensor in his body tingle in anticipation. Still, the offer seemed rather tacky, even distasteful, so soon after Knockout had just been reunited with his bondmate… and taking a mech from his mate, even for a night, couldn’t be honorable…

“Of course, I won’t force it on you,” Knockout assured him, sensing his reluctance. “I like my partners willing. But you worked your aft off to help me feel better after… that incident. It would be unforgivable of me to not thank you for that.”

Dreadwing’s gaze moved to Breakdown. “You have the gears to proposition me with this right in front of your bondmate?”

Breakdown actually laughed at that. “I’m not gonna come after you with a hammer for sleeping with him. The two of us are just fine with sharing. Ask the Vehicons, or Soundwave. If we think someone needs a night to unwind or experience a little pleasure, we give it to them. It helps them, and it makes us feel better knowing other mechs are a little happier.”

Well, that was news to him. But somehow that knowledge didn’t make Knockout seem like a whore-bot in his optics. If anything, it only improved his view of him. Unbeknownst to him until now, he truly cared about his comrades. And even if his means of helping them were a bit… unconventional, he was doing what he could to improve their lives. He could respect and even admire that.

“I will accept your gratitude, such as it is,” he said at last. “But it has been awhile… I may not be a satisfactory partner for you.”

Breakdown chuckled and took his hand, leading him to the back of the medbay and Knockout’s quarters. “Don’t worry about being satisfactory, Dreadwing… just enjoy it. Trust me.”

Dreadwing frowned in confusion as Knockout followed the two larger mechs into his room, shutting and locking the door behind him. If this was to be his night with Knockout, why did Breakdown accompany them? Did he feel the need to supervise whenever his bondmate took another partner for the night? The thought of interfacing with another set of eyes watching him was enough to squash his desire for a moment…

Then clever hands slipped into a gap in his plating, where his pelvic armor and his thigh met, and he gave a sharp cry as devious fingers lightly stroked a sensitive cable. A shock of pleasure coursed through his systems, awakening every sensor node in his body, sending shivers through his spark. He was suddenly glad for Breakdown’s presence as the SUV-former caught him before he could fall to his knees, holding him upright even as Knockout continued to explore.

“Good reactions,” Knockout noted with a sly smile. “Decidedly more noisy than we first thought… not that that’s a problem.” He laughed and leisurely traced a digit along the edges of Dreadwing’s cockpit, eliciting a groan and a shudder from the Seeker. “Seems the rumors are true… jetformers have far more erogenous zones than other mechs.”

“Does that include the wings?” Breakdown asked, his voice rippling with mirth as he slid his arms beneath Dreadwing’s to hold him upright.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Knockout replied casually as he let his fingers ghost along the seams on Dreadwing’s sides, making him squirm at the sensations. “Why don’t you find out?”

Breakdown shifted so that he was supporting Dreadwing with one arm, and with his free hand he began to lightly massage the Seeker’s wing. Dreadwing tried to stifle any sounds of pleasure, but a wanton moan found its way out of his vocalizer before he could mute it. The touch was gentle, soothing, and yet the feeling of so many sensitive nodes being stimulated did far more to excite and arouse him than soothe him. Even now he could feel his interface equipment begin to activate, his valve warming up and beginning to release lubricant in anticipation. His faceplates heated up in embarrassment, but he couldn’t control himself.

“Oh my, someone’s getting excited,” Knockout chuckled, trailing his hand down Dreadwing’s chest until it rested just over his panel. “Try the leading edge of the wing, Breakdown.”

Before Dreadwing could protest, Breakdown acted, tracing a digit along the edge of the wing with a feather-light touch. He cried out, arching his back, the pleasure so acute it was almost pain at first. His hands clenched, wanting to grasp at something, anything… to drag Knockout to face level and kiss him deeply, to feel his chassis beneath his digits and repay some of the delicious torment he was inflicting…

“Whoa,” Knockout murmured appreciatively. “Has anyone ever told you you’re handsome when you’re in pleasure, Dreadwing?”

“Please…” he groaned between heavy vents of his fans, shuddering as Breakdown continued to toy with his wings. “Don’t tease… need…”

“I suppose I should… you did say please, after all.” Knockout flashed him a grin before opening his panel, then slid aside the cover of his valve. The feel of cool air against his valve sent a shudder through his frame, and it was all he could do to hold still as the medic traced the edges with a fingertip.

Breakdown slid both arms around Dreadwing now, holding him as he lightly kissed the side of his helm. “If you want us to stop at any time, just say so. We won’t do anything to you that you don’t want. ‘Kay?”

Dreadwing managed to gather his wits and calm his cycling enough to retort. “If you… if you stop now… after winding me up this much… I’ll frag both of your afts.”

“Ooh, promise?” Knockout asked teasingly. “But I take that as yes, he wants to continue.” He nudged Dreadwing’s thighs apart slightly, then knelt before him. “Hold him for me, Breaky.”

It had been far too long since anyone had touched his valve... and at the first touch of Knockout’s glossa he gave a stuttering cry as sensor nodes long inactive from disuse flared to life. His body seemed to have a will of its own, his hips twitching in response to the medic’s attentions, his limbs trembling. Primus below, he had forgotten just how good this felt…

Knockout hummed softly as he slid his glossa further inside his valve, sending pleasant vibrations through Dreadwing’s body. He lightly caressed the jetformer’s thighs as he continued to pleasure him, increasing his pace, seeming to gain encouragement from his vocal reactions. Breakdown, for his part, gave him his share of attention as well, nuzzling and nipping at his neck cables, even licking and kissing his horns. 

Dreadwing cried out again as Knockout slipped a finger into his valve, stroking at the deeper nodes while he continued to work his glossa in and out. His internals clenched, components and systems keening as they worked faster to cool his rapidly overheating body, every sensor in his body tingling as he neared overload. It was too much, and yet at the same time not enough… he wanted to beg Knockout to stop and yet beg him to keep going…

Breakdown lowered his head slightly to kiss the leading edge of his wing, tracing it with both lip-plates and glossa. That touch, coupled with Knockout’s oral stimulation, pushed Dreadwing over the edge, sending a flood of cold fire through his entire sensory network as he hit overload. His vision whited out briefly, and dimly he was aware of a wild, hoarse cry that could only have come from him. Shuddering, he let the wave of sensation sweep over him, wiping out all pain and thought for one brief, glorious moment.

When he finally regained awareness of his surroundings he simply hung limply in Breakdown’s arms, venting hard and fast to cool himself down. He felt exhausted, drained… and yet strangely triumphant, as if the simple act of overload had been a great victory. 

He turned his head slightly to see Breakdown smiling at him, looking as pleased as if he had been the one to drive Dreadwing to overload. Before he could turn away, the warrior ducked close and stole a brief but tender kiss.

“That… was hot,” Knockout murmured, rising to his feet. To Dreadwing’s embarrassment the medic had the Seeker’s lubricant on his face and chest, and the medic wore a satisfied grin as he wiped it away. “You’re a little loud and messy, but I like that.”

Dreadwing waited a moment until he was sure he had the wherewithal to reply coherently. “Th-thank… you…”

Knockout raised an optic ridge. “You’re welcome… but if you’re under the impression that we’re done already, I think you’re in for a surprise.”

Despite himself, Dreadwing shivered at the promise in his tone. His valve, still hot and sensitive from Knockout’s attentions, tingled anew, and an uncomfortable but not entirely unpleasant pressure began to build in his spike housing. He watched with greedy optics as Knockout lay back on the berth, arranging his body to best display himself to greatest effect, giving the Seeker what could only be described as a come-hither look.

He didn’t hesitate – his exhaustion from his earlier overload forgotten, he strode toward the berth and pulled Knockout upright to kiss him deeply. His hands slid over the medic’s chassis, marveling at the smoothness of the freshly polished metal, moving to squeeze and knead the tires on his shoulders and fondle the crests and fins of his helm. Knockout responded beautifully, kissing back and leaning slightly into each touch, his own hands back to exploring Dreadwing’s chassis and teasing every sensitive point he could find.

Dreadwing moved one hand down to Knockout’s panel, only to find it open and ready for him. Knockout, in return, brought his own hand to Dreadwing’s spike housing, clicking it open and allowing the pressurized spike to slide out. The Seeker jerked and moaned deeply as he slid his hand along its length, an appreciative smile on his face.

“Nice size,” he chuckled. “Big, but not abnormally so.” His gaze moved up to meet Dreadwing’s, and even though the medic was keeping his voice carefully controlled, his optics blazed with arousal. “R-ready?”

In response Dreadwing nudged Knockout back onto the berth, holding his hips. With one swift movement he buried his spike deep into the medic’s valve, moving just carefully enough to ensure Knockout could take all of him. The smaller mech arched against him, giving a loud moan of surprise and delight, and reached up to grab onto his sides and hold him close. His valve tightened around Dreadwing’s spike, and the smooth, slick heat of him was almost enough to drive him straight to overload again.

“O-oh my,” Knockout groaned, panting heavily as he gazed up at the mech looming over him. “Y-you don’t waste t-time...” His optics moved to look at something over Dreadwing’s shoulder, and his devious grin returned.

Before Dreadwing could ask what was going on, hands gripped his hips from behind. Almost before he realized what was happening, he felt a body behind him, and a thick spike pressing into his valve. He bucked, crying out, as Breakdown pushed into him, one hand holding onto his hip and the other moving up to rub his back soothingly. This being caught in the middle, the dual sensation of penetrating and being penetrated, was completely foreign to him… and yet exquisite as well. Briefly he wondered if every mech they “treated” this way received this, and the thought sent a new flare of desire through his body.

His hips hitched, thrusting against Knockout. The medic clung to him, bracing himself enough to ensure he wasn’t pushed around the berth, and rocked back in return, matching the Seeker’s pace. Breakdown, too, began to move, timing his thrusts just so, until all three were moving in rhythm with one another. Hands clutched at armor, fingers found sensitive seams and panels, groans and keens of pleasure filled the air around them.

Knockout was the first to overload, arching beneath Dreadwing, his cry ringing through the room. His valve clenched tightly around Dreadwing’s spike as he shuddered with pleasure beneath him, and the sensation was enough to trigger the Seeker’s second overload. He groaned loudly as he rocked into Knockout one more time, his entire body jolting and shuddering with climax. Behind him, Breakdown gave a moan that was almost a whine as he, too, hit overload, and Dreadwing shivered as he felt the hot rush of the warrior’s transfluids against the walls of his valve.

He had no idea how long they remained like that, caught in the throes of their own and each other’s overloads. He didn’t even remember exactly when his own overload finally ended. By the time he was aware of his surroundings again, body still thrumming with pleasure, he found himself on his side on the berth, Knockout tucked up against his chest and Breakdown snuggled in behind him. The warmth of both mechs’ chassis was strangely soothing, reminding him of happier times when he and Skyquake had nestled together to recharge…

Knockout interrupted his thoughts with a gentle kiss to his chin. “You put yourself down, Dreadwing… for being so inexperienced you did well. You’ve done this before, haven’t you?”

He shuttered his optics, memory returning with a bittersweet pang. “With Skyquake.”

“Oh?” Knockout tilted his head to one side curiously. “I didn’t think siblings normally had those kinds of relations. But then, what do I know, I was an only creation…”

“It’s common with spark-twins,” Dreadwing replied. “The relationship between them is… close. Close enough that it often doesn’t allow any other sort of deep relationship to come between them.” He sighed softly and held Knockout against him. “Before tonight… I hadn’t interfaced since before my brother and I were separated.”

Breakdown reached up to rub the Seeker’s shoulder. “You miss him, doncha?”

“Every day,” Dreadwing confessed. “Not a day goes by when it doesn’t hurt. His death left a hole in my spark that will never close.” He sighed softly, curling up a little around Knockout. “There are times when I can forget the pain, if only for a few moments, but it never entirely goes away.”

Knockout was silent a moment, pondering his words. “I understand. It’s… terrible… being alone, when once you had a soulmate.” His slim hand came up to rest on Dreadwing’s cheek. “I’m sorry.”

Dreadwing snorted. “You’re not the one who dealt the death blow. You of all mechs know how it feels. If anything… I should be sorry. I was convinced that after you got Breakdown back, you’d be rubbing this in my faceplate, flaunting the fact that you got your sparkmate back and I didn’t. I misjudged you, and for that I apologize.”

“Oh come now,” Knockout chided, chuckling softly. “I may be loud, flamboyant, and quite deservedly proud of my looks, but I’m not needlessly cruel – well, to my comrades, at least.” He rubbed his cheek gently. “We may not be able to heal your spark, but know you’re always welcome with us should you need the company.”

Dreadwing managed a slight smile, warmth filling his spark at the offer. “Thank you.”

“You are quite welcome.” Knockout smiled back. “Rest with us for the night. It just seems rude to ‘face you and chase you off immediately afterward.”

He was all too happy to oblige, settling in and drifting into recharge. He was offline so quickly and so deeply that he was entirely oblivious to the other two as the quietly conversed through the night, making their own plans for the Seeker.

***

When Dreadwing awakened the next morning, he found himself alone in the berth. Sometime during the night Breakdown and Knockout had deserted him, no doubt off to pursue some form of private recreation for their leave time. Well, he supposed he couldn’t begrudge them that – despite the events of last night, those two were a couple, and there really wasn’t room in their relationship for a third wheel.

Still, it felt rather lonely lying in their oversized berth by himself, and after a few minutes he pushed himself upright. With surprise he noted that someone had taken the time to clean him up and close his panel while he was asleep. Would these two never cease to surprise him with their thoughtfulness…

In the repair bay proper, Knockout and Breakdown were studying a set of readouts, discussing something or other. Curious, Dreadwing approached as quietly as he could, trying to catch their conversation.

“…difficult to duplicate, but not impossible,” Knockout was saying. “For once I wish Starscream were still around. He was always better with technical details like this.”

“We could always go kidnap the Autobots’ medic,” Breakdown pointed out. “He knows stuff about groundbridges. What was his name again, Hatchet?”

“Close enough,” Knockout replied with a dismissive wave of his hand. “And at any rate, we don’t need him. We can do this ourselves.”

“What are you two up to?” Dreadwing demanded.

Knockout looked up and flashed him a grin. “Good morning, Dreadwing! Breakdown and I were just about to embark on a day trip, and we’d be delighted if you’d join us.”

Dreadwing shook his head. “You two may be on leave, but I have duties here.”

“Surely nothing so pressing that you can’t slip away for a few hours,” Knockout insisted. “We’d have you back before Megatron even noticed you were gone. And besides, you might find the trip worth it.”

He shook his head. “Another time. I’m busy today.” And he turned to go.

“I insist, Dreadwing,” Knockout replied. “This is very important.”

Dreadwing turned to glare at him. “Just what is the purpose of this jaunt of yours, and why are you so insistent that I go with you?”

Knockout’s smile wasn’t devious or cocky this time – it was an expression of genuine kindness. “To bring Skyquake back, of course.”

Dreadwing’s mouth fell open, his spark flaring with emotion. He tried to suppress the sudden rush of hope and narrowed his optics. “Don’t even joke about that.”

“We’re serious, Dread!” Breakdown insisted. “Knockout brought me back. All that was left was a flicker of my spark, but he was able to use our bond to bring the rest of me back from the Well of All Sparks. We just thought… if there was any chance that some of Skyquake was left… maybe your spark could be used to bring him back too.”

Hope flared again, spreading warmth through his body. They truly meant this… Knockout wanted to replicate Breakdown’s resurrection and bring his twin back. The realization was so powerful he nearly wept, but he managed to maintain control through great effort.

“How?” he murmured. “His body…”

“Is trapped in something called a shadowzone,” Knockout replied. “Apparently two groundbridges opened within close proximity of each other creates a glitch in the fabric of reality and traps creatures around it in a pocket dimension. I hear Starscream left an arm there, and the Autobots’ squishy pets were stuck there for awhile until those soft-sparked mechs went back for them.” He rolled his optics at that. “Anyhow… it should be possible to replicate the conditions and access the zone again. We’ll need a groundbridge to get out, but luckily we’ve bribed Greg to staff the controls while we’re gone.”

Dreadwing frowned in confusion. “Greg?”

“The Vehicons are taking on human names to better distinguish themselves,” Breakdown explained. “Steve, Greg, Kevin, Andrew, Jose, Francour… it’s a little odd, but it’s harmless. Don’t let it slip to Megatron, please?”

Dreadwing nodded. As Breakdown had said, it was odd but harmless, and if it made the Vehicons happy to have individual designations, even human ones, he couldn’t fault it. “Isn’t this whole venture dangerous, though? If it fails, we could all be killed or trapped in the shadowzone.”

Knockout chuckled. “But the thrill is part of the fun!” He went serious again. “I knew going to avenge Breakdown could result in my death, but in my CPU, it was worth it. Wouldn’t this be worth having your brother back?”

As much as the logical part of him wanted to insist that this whole venture was ill-advised and dangerous, Dreadwing couldn’t deny that last statement. He wanted Skyquake back more than anything. If nothing else, he at least wanted to see him one last time, and at least have a chance to say goodbye. 

“I’ll go,” he said at last. “But why are you doing this for me? You’ve already… thanked me… for before.”

Knockout smiled. “I’m a medic. It’s my job to make sure all the mechs on this ship are in top fighting form. And believe it or not, I do care about my charges. If this helps you, then it’s worth a jaunt into the shadowzone.” He gathered a few datapads from the table, then turned back to the others. “Let’s go… the sooner there, the sooner back, and hopefully with another Seeker in tow, hmm?”

Dreadwing was only too happy to accompany them.

***

This place felt… wrong. There was no other way to describe it. At first glance it seemed to only be a normal rocky canyon, much like any other on this planet. But everything felt just off enough about it to bother Dreadwing on a primal level. Colors were faded and washed-out, like an aged hologram, and sounds were muted as if fed through a malfunctioning recording device before reaching his audials. And there was an energy in the air that set every sensor in his body on edge, making him feel antsy and nervous.

“Cheerful place,” Knockout noted, grimacing as he brushed dust from his chestplate.

“It’s eerie,” Breakdown complained, looking around and arming his hammer. “I feel like I’m in a horror vid. You sure Greg’ll beam us back?”

“I told him to open a ground bridge back in four hours,” Knockout replied. “That should give us enough time to find Skyquake, re-activate his spark, and repair him enough to be seen in decent company before we take him back.”

Dreadwing looked around the canyon, searching for any sign of his brother’s body. The stasis pod – or at least a shadowy copy of it – lay open nearby, and there were signs of a terrible battle everywhere, but of Skyquake there was no trace. Had they misjudged the location? Or worse, did something else live in the shadowzone, and had dragged his body away for its own nefarious purposes?

Something crunched under his foot, and he raised it to find he’d stepped on something metallic – a severed hand. With a lurch he recognized it – Skyquake’s. He hoped his brother hadn’t been alive when he’d lost the limb…

“The rest of him should be around here somewhere,” Knockout insisted. “Not like the dead can go far…”

“Unless they’re zombies,” Breakdown pointed out. “But Megatron hasn’t come around here with Dark Energon lately, has he?”

Dreadwing was about to tell Breakdown that he was certain their commander wasn’t THAT dishonorable as to defile a comrade’s body in such a fashion when a hideous snarl rippled through the canyon. All three mechs glanced up sharply to see something shambling around a bend in the canyon, its chassis broken and cracked, its optics glowing a sickly violet. Despite its decayed, ruined look, Dreadwing recognized it instantly, and felt as if someone had driven a blade into his abdomen.

“Skyquake!”

“Whoa,” Breakdown mumbled, optics bright with surprise. “Maybe Megatron beat us here.”

“Or maybe this is what Starscream was up to when he lost his arm,” Knockout mused. “I wondered what he was up to when he came back ranting about shadowzones and such…”

Dreadwing just stared, mouth open, spark roiling with a storm of emotions – horror, anger, renewed grief, and a sudden terror so great it took all his willpower not to go airborne and fly away from this creature. Never mind that it wore his brother’s body; this was a monster, a violation of the laws of Primus. They should be trying to destroy it and wipe its unnatural stain off the face of the planet, not trying to save it…

But the creature raised its head to make optic contact with Dreadwing at that moment. The violet optics flashed once, as if in recognition…

Dreadwing gasped and staggered backward as something flickered in his spark, a part of himself he’d thought dead. Something achingly familiar was struggling to awaken inside him – the bond, the constant presence of his twin that he’d thought he’d never feel again. Emotion swirled in that flicker of thought – anguish, despair, constant pain, hatred at his fate as a creature not quite living and not quite dead, but some nightmarish state in between…

_Brother,_ Skyquake thought, feeling fluid build up in his cleanser ducts. _Brother… can you hear me?_

The battered shell of Skyquake’s body stumbled to a halt, cocking its head to one side like a curious animal. Flashes of thought flickered across the faint thread that remained of their bond, more emotion and memory than words.

_Hurt-hate-TEAR-REND… Dark Energon… Starscream… DESTROY… not-alive-not-dead… anger-fear-pain… want to die, want to live… help-help-HATE-hurt-help…_

_Brother, we’re here to help you… please, it’s me, it’s Dreadwing! Your twin!_

_Brother…_ The creature shook its head, reaching up with its remaining hand to grip its helm. _Remember… Dreadwing… hurts-hate-want-need… kill me… end the pain… DESTROY DESTROY UNFAIR DESTROY…_

_We’re here to help you,_ Dreadwing repeated. _Trust us… we’re going to try to help you…_

“Do you still want to do this, Dreadwing?” asked Knockout, sounding a little more cautious than he usually did. “Or do you think it would be kinder to… be merciful? To end his suffering?”

Dreadwing turned to glare at Knockout. “He is my brother… I would sooner tear out my own spark than hurt him. We carry on as we originally planned.”

Knockout nodded, looking satisfied at his choice. “Breakdown and I will go down and try to subdue him. Once we have him pinned down, I’ll get his spark chamber open. You’ll need to move in quickly to re-bond with him, in case he breaks free. These re-animated mechs are stronger than they look.”

“Don’t damage him more than you have to,” Dreadwing pleaded. 

“We’ll do what we can,” Breakdown vowed, and he charged toward Skyquake, hammer raised and ready, free hand open to grab. Skyquake gave a raspy roar and staggered forward to meet him. The two mechs collided with a thunderous BOOM, Breakdown trying to force the zombified Seeker to the ground, Skyquake raking his claws across the blue mech’s back, rasping all the while.

Knockout darted into the fray, jabbing his hand into a gap in Skyquake’s knee. The undead mech gave a high screech as his leg buckled beneath him, and Breakdown took advantage of the momentary weakness to shove him to the ground. He gripped his arms and pinned them over his head, making the mech buck and scream in rage.

“Good job!” Knockout shouted. “Hold him down just a moment while I-“

Skyquake ripped his arm free of Breakdown’s grip and swatted Knockout aside with a gurgling growl. Breakdown grabbed for his arm again, but Skyquake swiped his claws across his faceplate. The SUV-former reeled back, yelping in pain, and the Seeker was on his feet with a speed Dreadwing hadn’t expected from an undead mech. Before he could get out of the way the creature slammed into him, knocking him to the ground.

_HATE!_ Skyquake’s voice thundered through his CPU, crackling with rage and agony in equal measures. _HATE-DEATH-SHRED-CRUSH-DESTROY…_

“Brother!” Dreadwing cried, writhing to break free. “Brother, it’s me! Dreadwing! Please!”

_Pain… hurts so much…_ Claws raked across Dreadwing’s chest as the creature blindly clawed for his throat. _End the pain… beg of you…_

“Dreadwing!” shouted Breakdown. He and Knockout had taken up positions on either side of the two Seekers, guns drawn and aimed at Skyquake. Neither pulled the trigger yet… were they afraid of hitting Dreadwing by mistake? Or were they waiting for him to give the word to shoot?

No… he would die before he let them kill his brother. Even if it meant his death.

Claws drove deep into Dreadwing’s shoulder, sending bolts of pain through his chassis. Skyquake’s presence in his spark seethed with rage – if he couldn’t be all the way alive or all the way dead, he swore he would destroy anything living he came across… and if Dreadwing wouldn’t help him find oblivion he would die too…

Dreadwing grabbed at Skyquake’s chest, struggling to find the catch to his chestplate. The metal gave far too easily under his hands, and the chestplate practically tore open at his touch to expose his spark chamber. Something was alive in there… the merest glimmer of a spark… but it was enough.

Skyquake hissed in confusion and anger as Dreadwing opened his own chestplate, his own spark glowing brightly. He yanked his claws from Dreadwing’s shoulder and raised his hand, ready to bring it down to crush the exposed spark… then screeched in surprise as Dreadwing pulled him down on top of him, pressing his spark to his brother’s.

For a moment, it was agony. His brother’s pain and rage poured through him like acid, searing into his CPU and spark. The flood of anger threatened to carry him away, to wipe out his very identity and drag him into the same pit of misery that Skyquake now inhabited. Terror gripped his spark, and for a horrifying moment he wondered if trying this wasn’t a mistake… if sparkbonding with a Dark Energon zombie only made a zombie out of the other mech…

_Skyquake!_ With all his strength he pushed back against the flood of pain and anger, pouring his own identity into his brother’s spark. He shared everything, his memories, his love for his brother, his own pain at having lost him… his desire to have him back, and to save him from what he had become…

_Dreadwing…_ The rage faltered, the merest glimpse of the true Skyquake breaking through for an instant.

_Skyquake… fight it… come back to me…_

_Dreadwing… you care…_ Hope broke through the rage, a ray of light in the maelstrom of darkness. _Don’t go… don’t ever let go… I thought I’d lost you… I thought we were separated forever…_

_I’m here… I’m here and I’ll never leave you. This I promise._

Their sparks merged together, Skyquake drawing energy from Dreadwing, the flicker of his spark strengthening and brightening. The snarling beast faded away, pushed back by the combined efforts of both brothers. Dreadwing could feel the tear in his own spark closing, healing, as the bond reforged between them, as strong and whole as if it had never been broken in the first place.

Skyquake’s optics darkened briefly, and when they reactivated they were a normal crimson. The animal snarl left his face, and he gazed down at his brother in horror.

“I hurt you…” He raised his hand to touch the gouges in his shoulder. “I’m sorry… Primus, I’m so sorry…”

“Don’t be,” Dreadwing urged, reaching up to rub Skyquake’s cheek soothingly. “Brother… don’t be sorry. I’m just glad you’re back.” He finally allowed himself to cry, optic cleanser sliding down his face despite the smile on his lip plates. “I missed you so much.”

Skyquake lowered his helm to touch foreheads with his twin. “I just wanted to die… it hurt to even exist. I was so angry at everything… thank you for not giving up on me.”

“I could never give up on you.”

The sound of someone clearing their vocalizer interrupted them, and they looked up to see Knockout looking down expectantly at them.

“I hate to interrupt this tender moment, but Skyquake is in dire need of repairs,” he pointed out. “And Megatron won’t be too happy if you go back with holes in your chassis, Dreadwing. Though maybe having another Seeker around will mollify him…” He motioned to Skyquake. “Over here so I can patch you up. Dreadwing, you can stay with him if you’d like.” He chuckled softly. “I’m happy for you, Dreadwing. I really am.”

Skyquake stood, helping Dreadwing to his feet. He seemed reluctant to let go of his brother’s hand – not that Dreadwing blamed him. He wasn’t sure he wanted to be away from his brother’s side at the moment.

“I haven’t met those two,” Skyquake murmured. “What are they like?”

Dreadwing answered honestly. “Knockout is vain, arrogant, cocky, and overconfident, and Breakdown is rather dim and has a streak of rotten luck. But they are some of the best mechs I have ever known.”

Skyquake had to smile at that. “You waste no words on flattery, do you?”

Dreadwing laughed slightly. “We have much to catch up on, brother. And tonight… perhaps Knockout and Breakdown won’t mind a bit of extra company…”


End file.
